ArticlePDF Available

From Art Gallery to Movie Theatre: Spectatorship in Julian Rosefeldt’s Manifesto

Authors:

Abstract and Figures

Experimental films have historically had a contested and marginalized position within film exhibition. With his Manifesto (2015), which has been exhibited both as a video installation in art galleries and as a feature film in movie theatres, Julian Rosefeldt collapsed the barriers between these exhibition spaces. By performing a comparative analysis of Manifesto in both forms, this article outlines the way spectators behave differently in the theatre and the gallery, the different demands the work makes on the viewer in each venue, and the difficulties of transforming the work from one form to another. By asking what is lost and what is gained, this article explores how the text, form, and venue function differently, to reveal underlying assumptions about spectatorship. Article received: December 31, 2017; Article accepted: January 10, 2018; Published online: April 15, 2018; Original scholarly paper How to cite this article: Ljungbäck, Hugo. "From Art Gallery to Movie Theatre: Spectatorship in Julian Rosefeldt’s Manifesto." AM Journal of Art and Media Studies 15 (2018): . doi: 10.25038/am.v0i15.237
Content may be subject to copyright.
135
http://dx.doi.org/10.25038/am.v0i15.237
Hugo Ljungbäck
University of Wisconsin–Milwaukee, USA
From Art Gallery to Movie Theatre:
Spectatorship in Julian Rosefeldt’s Manifesto
Abstract: Experimental lms have historically had a contested and marginalized po-
sition within lm exhibition. With his Manifesto (2015), which has been exhibited both as
a video installation in art galleries and as a feature lm in movie theatres, Julian Rosefeldt
collapsed the barriers between these exhibition spaces. By performing a comparative analysis
of Manifesto in both forms, this article outlines the way spectators behave dierently in the
theatre and the gallery, the dierent demands the work makes on the viewer in each venue,
and the diculties of transforming the work from one form to another. By asking what is lost
and what is gained, this article explores how the text, form, and venue function dierently, to
reveal underlying assumptions about spectatorship.
Keywords: spectatorship; installation; lm exhibition; experimental lm; video art;
self-reexivity; duration
Introduction
In early January 2017, Cate Blanchett fans and art lm enthusiasts alike rejoiced
as they learned that Julian Rosefeldts Manifesto, his synthesis of over y artists’ man-
ifestos from a variety of twentieth-century art movements, would be released as a
feature-length lm. e project, which had originally ‘premiered’ as a thirteen-chan-
nel video installation at the Australian Center for the Moving Image in Melbourne
in December 2015, was slowly making its way through art galleries around the world
already – from Berlin to New York City to Paris to Buenos Aires – but this prospective
theatrical release would bring Rosefeldt’s work to more mainstream and local audi-
ences. Manifesto would also come to transcend two venues – the art gallery and the
movie theatre – with opposing histories and expectations on spectatorship, perhaps in
an attempt to bridge a gap between them.
In the movie theatre, Manifesto is exhibited as an hour-and-a-half long fea-
ture lm in an anthology-like format, in which Blanchett portrays thirteen charac-
ters in dierent ‘episodes’ – from a plant worker and a puppeteer to a scientist and a
*Author contact information: ljungba2@uwm.edu
136
Ljungbäck, H., From Art Gallery to Movie Theatre, AM Journal, No. 15, 2018, 135-146.
choreographer – who speak in the form of twentieth-century artists’ manifestos. As
an installation, Blanchett’s characters instead inhabit twelve individual large projec-
tion screens, with a thirteenth screen, somewhat removed from the others, serving
as a prologue to the installation. Each video is ten and a half minutes long, looping
innitely.
While Manifesto is worthy of many more dissections and discussions than is
possible here, this article will focus primarily on the process by which Manifesto was
transformed from video installation to feature-length lm – a process which Rosefeldt
has remarked took almost a year1 – and how the work functions dierently in these
venues (or, maybe, how it fails to function similarly). is article argues that the gal-
lery and the theatre place dierent demands on the spectator, and similarly, on the
work. Some have argued that Manifesto has failed to reproduce the experience of the
installation in the feature lm. is article argues instead that Manifesto attempts to
do dierent things as an installation and as a feature lm.
Manifesto in the tradition of experimental cinema
It is worthwhile, rst, to situate Manifesto within the context of the ‘experimen-
tal lm’. Manifesto follows in the traditions of canonical experimental cinema and
arthouse lms, and explores many of the same concerns, strategies, and techniques,
including appropriated language, voice-over narration, non-narrative structure, di-
rectly addressing the spectator, performativity, self-reexivity, and duration. Manifes-
to also makes references to previous experimental lms, most memorably through a
spinning shot of a spiraling staircase, which visually calls to mind Marcel Duchamp’s
Anemic Cinema (1926), as well as the writings of Stan Brakhage, one of the most pro-
lic experimental lmmakers of the second half of the twentieth century.
Experimental lms have historically had (and arguably suered from) a con-
tested and marginalized position within lm exhibition, which has made it unclear
whether experimental lms belong in art galleries or should be screened in movie
theatres like any other lm. e exhibition of Manifesto as a video installation places it
within an additional history of moving image artmaking that has attempted to thwart
and subvert the traditions of blockbuster Hollywood lms, continuity lmmaking,
and the ‘industrial cinema complex’, in dierent ways.
However, Katerina Gregos makes an important distinction between Rosefeldt’s
practice and that of traditional video installation. She argues that the history of vid-
eo installation has primarily been dominated by low-budget and independent pro-
duction. Typically, an artist has incorporated video into their already active practice
within sculpture, painting, or performance, to expand their practice into new media.
1 Soheil Rezayazdi, “Turning 13 Installation Screens of Cate Blanchett Into One Single-Screen Feature: Julian
Rosefeldt on Manifesto,” Filmmaker Magazine (May 9, 2017), http://lmmakermagazine.com/102408-turning-
13-installation-screens-of-cate-blanchett-into-one-single-screen-feature-julian-rosefeldt-on-manifesto/, acc.
December 23, 2017.
137
Ljungbäck, H., From Art Gallery to Movie Theatre, AM Journal, No. 15, 2018, 135-146.
On the contrary, she maintains, Rosefeldt’s work “draws on cinematic conventions
and the vocabulary of cinema, and is oen akin to cinematic production processes.
Gregos argues that Rosefeldt’s lms “occupy a territory at the opposite end of the
spectrum of the sometimes amateurish, facile, do-it-yourself tactics” of most video
art.2 Catherine Elwes has similarly noted that Rosefeldt has “dely appropriated the
emblematic techniques of commercial lm” in his installations.3 He oen works with
elaborate constructed lm sets on sound stages, and collaborates with a large crew of
designers, engineers, and performers. Rosefeldt has also shot most of his installations
(which he aptly insists on calling lm installations) primarily on super-16mm and
super-35mm lm before converting them to video for exhibition, though his ve most
recent works, including Manifesto, were shot on HD video.
Artists and lmmakers have certainly exhibited their 16mm lms in art gal-
leries before. Andy Warhol, Dan Graham, and Michael Snow showed their lms in
galleries in the 1960s and 1970s,4 but the scale of their productions was more akin to
that of the video art which Gregos speaks of. Scale is an important factor to consider
in Rosefeldt’s work. Manifesto, as well as many of his previous works, features many
long-shots and vast landscapes and architectural structures. In one scene of Manifes-
to, a drone-shot of vast industrial ruins moves in on Blanchett as a homeless man; in
another, a panning crane shot of a large theatre set reveals Blanchett choreographing
an alien dance performance. Revealing the lm sets and the apparatus of his own
lmmaking is a familiar trope within Rosefeldt’s body of work. e choreographer
scene reveals the lighting rigs, props, costumes, performers, and massive backstage
construction’ of his work. Similarly, in a scene with Blanchett as a news reporter ‘on
location, a handheld camera zooms out to reveal the articial lighting, an industri-
al-size fan, and a rain machine, which are soon turned o and wheeled o-set as
assistant producers approach her aer the scene has ‘wrapped’.
In Deep Gold (2013), Rosefeldt reveals that the street scene where much of
the lms action has taken place is in fact a constructed backlot set, again revealing
the costume racks, the catering people, and a production trailer. In American Night
(2009), a director is revealed to be lming the performances of the characters in one
video channel, while in another a set is revealed to be a two-dimensional construc-
tion, which is slowly pulled back on a dolly track as the camera moves out. In Lonely
Planet (2006), the artist himself walks through a Bollywood lm set, while in e
Soundmaker (2004), a performing foley artist in a studio creates the sounds of his own
alter ego self rearranging his living room furniture, before the cameras nally move
out to reveal the two rooms constructed adjacent to each other.
Rosefeldt exhibits a clear interest in deconstructing the illusion of cinema.
As such, his installation works construct a space for criticism of traditional studio
2 Katerina Gregos, “Unpredictable Incidents in Familiar Surroundings,” in Julian Rosefeldt: Film Works, ed.
Stephan Berg, Anselm Franke, Katerina Gregos, and David orp (Ostldern: Hatje Cantz Verlag, 2008), 33.
3 Catherine Elwes, Installation and the Moving Image (New York: Columbia University Press, 2015), 158.
4 Helen Westgeest, Video Art eory: A Comparative Approach (Malaysia: Wiley-Blackwell, 2016), 165.
138
Ljungbäck, H., From Art Gallery to Movie Theatre, AM Journal, No. 15, 2018, 135-146.
lmmaking by appropriating these same techniques and turning them onto them-
selves. is self-reexive tendency has strong precedents in the history of experimen-
tal lmmaking, in which artists have worked to explore and expose their own lm-
making processes or the particular properties of the media with which they work.
Stan Brakhage scratched and painted on the emulsion of lm strips to explore the
physical properties of celluloid lm, while Joan Jonas played with the exhibition
of video and the properties of the television set in Vertical Roll (1972). In William
Greaves’s Symbiopsychotaxiplasm (1968), the lmmaker sets out to make a lm about
the construction of meaning in cinema by having his crew lm themselves discussing
the production of screen tests for the lm.
Rosefeldt’s self-reexivity becomes particularly interesting in the nal epi-
sode of Manifesto, in which an elementary teacher instructs her class in ‘proper’ lm-
making technique [Figure 1], according to the acceptable principles of Jim Jarmus-
ch’s Golden Rules of Filmmaking (2002) and Lars von Trier’s and omas Vinterberg’s
Dogme 95 (1995). She tells her students that “music must not be used unless it occurs
where the scene is being shot”, and that “the camera must be handheld”. Ultimately,
Rosefeldt reveals the irony in how lmmakers supposedly working in opposition to
the formulaic Hollywood traditions of narrative and continuity cinema have formed
their own formulas and rules to follow, which are not entirely unlike the rst.
Manifesto as a feature lm
Out of blackness, an abstract image of an out-of-focus re and sparks that slow-
ly make their way across the screen accompanies the low hum of a musical cue. “All
that is solid melts into air”, a woman’s voice quotes from e Communist Manifesto
(1848) – Rosefeldt’s only reference to a manifesto written before the twentieth century
throughout the lm. “I am writing a manifesto because I have nothing to say”, the
voice soon tells us. e re and sparks nally reach the opposite end of the screen
from where they started. Climactically, a rework is launched into the air as a group
of homeless women cheer.
is is how Manifesto introduces its premise to the spectator as a feature lm.
rough a synthesis of the writings of Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, Tristan Tzara,
and Philippe Soupault, the spectator has been primed to expect similar juxtapositions
of statements and writings for the remainder of the lm. Soon, their names ash in a
title sequence, alternating with Blanchett’s face in close-up, alongside more than 50
other names of artists and writers. Much like a substitute for the program notes avail-
able at the gallery, this foreshadowing sequence tells the spectator which manifestos
will be featured, and what characters will reappear in the lm. e formulaic title
sequence, complete with production credits for director of photography, editor, and
costume design [Figure 2], encourages the spectator to perceive the lm as any other
theatrical release, while the exposition builds anticipation, enticing the viewer to sit
through the entirety of the hour-and-a-half long lm.
139
Ljungbäck, H., From Art Gallery to Movie Theatre, AM Journal, No. 15, 2018, 135-146.
More interestingly, the feature lm has also established a direct causal chain
of events between two of the video installation channels, and thus a narrative rela-
tionship. ough the connection between the Prologue – which features the abstract
sparks of the fuse – and the Situationist lm – in which Blanchett portrays a homeless
man – is implied in the installation, the rework propels us into the spectacle of Mani-
festo in the feature lm. e installation lacks, or perhaps does not need, this powerful
push, as the re instead burns out, before fading to black and starting all over again.
Already in the rst few minutes of the lm, we can discern some of the imposi-
tions the feature lm form makes on the content, particularly in the form of causality
and narrative, but also through a musical score, a title sequence, and credits, which
are carried over into the rst episode of the lm. All these features tell the spectators
they are watching a ‘lm proper’. In particular, the introduction of music into the
lm reveals a certain expectation of the cinemagoer, or perhaps of Rosefeldt himself.
Whether the lm needs a musical score or not, the choice is telling about the type of
work the lmmaker wants the spectator to perform. While the music certainly lends
a unity to the separate video channels, it also removes the spectator from the medita-
tive, silent spaces which Rosefeldt has constructed in the installation, and which we
are encouraged to inhabit and stay in for a couple of minutes.
e Futurist episode, which features Blanchett as a broker on a gigantic stock
trade oor, remains silent for over six minutes in the installation, as the camera looks
down onto Blanchett from the ceiling before slowly moving closer, watching her on
the phone, pointing her pen at the computer screen in slow motion [Figure 3]. e
spectator must watch this four-minute shot in relative silence, apart from the key-
board-clicking, phone-calling, and oce-talking that make up the spaces room tone,
and the occasional shouting from nearby video channels. e feature lm cuts down
the entire ten-minute episode to just over three minutes, during which Blanchett’s
voice-over occupies our attention for two minutes, and the remainder is accompanied
by music.
In the reconstruction of the 130 minutes’ worth of content into a 94-minute
feature lm, it should make all the sense to remove these ‘passive’ meditative spaces
before eliminating Blanchett’s ‘active’ performances. In the Suprematist-Constructiv-
ist episode, a two-and-a-half-minute shot of three exposed elevators travelling up-
and-down is cut down to one minute and ten seconds; in the Stridentist-Creationist
episode, a four-and-a-half-minute long dolly-shot surveying the aermath of a punk
party is cut into three shots, totaling less than two-and-a-half minutes; in the episode
on Conceptual Art and Minimalism, three minutes’ worth of the camera slowly pan-
ning by a television studio lighting rig are cut out entirely.
Similarly, it is worth exploring which parts of the texts in the installation are
kept intact in the feature lm, and which are edited and cut down. Only the texts in
three episodes remain intact: the punk-rocker in the Stridentist-Creationist episode,
the puppeteer in the Surrealist-Spatialist episode, and the school teacher in the epi-
sode on Film. Some texts remain close to complete, such as the funeral speaker in the
140
Ljungbäck, H., From Art Gallery to Movie Theatre, AM Journal, No. 15, 2018, 135-146.
Dadaist episode, the incineration plant worker in the episode on Architecture, and the
news reporters in the episode on Conceptual Art and Minimalism.
e episode that is transformed the most is the episode on Vorticism, Blue
Rider, and Abstract Expressionism, in which a CEO is presenting a new concept for
the company. “Blast”, which is the culmination of the CEO’s presentation in the instal-
lation, is not even mentioned in the lm. Similarly, in the installation, when Blanchett
as the CEO speaks to one of the guests, she exclaims that “the poor are detestable
animals”. In the feature lm, this line is inaudible, as it becomes drowned by Blanch-
ett’s voice-over. Instead, we only hear her say the subsequent line, “the rich are bores
without exception. While the lm does not take a rm position on any of the political
stakes or the capitalist critiques inherent in many of the cited writings, the spectator
in the installation is given time to ponder the statements and their meanings, while
in the feature lm the spectator must quickly move on to readjust to the next settings,
characters, and statements.
It is necessary to reect on the choices that went into the editing of the feature
lm. One could, for exercise, imagine the feature lm as a ‘proper’ anthology lm, to
the varying likes of Paris, je t’aime (2006), Four Rooms (1995), or e Day I Became
a Woman (2000), in which each episode could function as a distinct and stand-alone
chapter, introduced by title cards stating that we were about to watch Situationism,
Futurism, etc., and in which causal or narrative relationships are unmotivated. In-
stead, Rosefeldt chose to impose a narrative onto the collective episodes, interweaving
them thematically, metaphorically, or visually. e lm cuts from the garbage piles in
the incineration plant to the trashed locale of the punk-rocker party; from a spinning
spiral staircase to two spinning girls playing in the woods; an upward tilt in the nev-
er-sleeping stock broker scene cuts to an upward tilt in a sleeping rural neighborhood.
It is not made clear from watching the lm what motivates splitting the pop art epi-
sode, in which a southern mother recites Claes Oldenburgs I Am for an Art... (1961)
as a lunchtime prayer, into three separate parts, dispersed in-between Dadaism and
Constructivism, or Vorticism and Fluxus, but one can only assume it must serve some
narrative point.
Manifesto as a video installation
Helen Westgeest, in Video Art eory: A Comparative Approach (2016), has
argued that some aspects of video installations are inherently confusing to specta-
tors. “e simultaneously presented video images force the spectator to choose when
to switch from one screen to another, to contemplate the relationship between vari-
ous projections, and where to position him/herself in the space of the installation.5
She argues that this experience is entirely dierent from that of the movie theatre,
in which the spectator needs only to sit in front of one and the same screen for the
5 Westgeest, Video Art eory: A Comparative Approach, 96.
141
Ljungbäck, H., From Art Gallery to Movie Theatre, AM Journal, No. 15, 2018, 135-146.
entirety of the work. While in the feature lm, all choices of duration and length have
been made beforehand by Rosefeldt and his editor, Booby Good, in the art gallery, the
spectator must choose for themselves how long to stay with one screen, whether to
stop and watch closely from beginning to end, or to watch for a while before continu-
ing onto the next one.6
e six-minute silent sequence in the Futurist episode is accompanied by the
sounds of nearby channels, as the simultaneous exhibition of all thirteen channels at
once makes for a soundscape of accompanying voices and noises from other episodes.
Being installed dierently at each gallery, at the discretion of the curator, the sound-
scapes change each time. At the National Gallery in Prague, for instance, the shout-
ing choreographer and the homeless man accompanied the silence of the Futurist
episode. Anna-Catharina Gebbers and Udo Kittelmann argue that Rosefeldt “invites
viewers to experiment by creating their own combinations of images and sounds as
they move through the Manifesto installation.7
Another distinction must be made between art gallery and movie theatre ex-
hibition. In the theatre, each lm starts at a predetermined time – a showtime. A
demand is made on the spectator to arrive at the venue by 7 p.m., or attend the next
screening at 9:30 p.m. In the art gallery, a spectator is free to show up at any time they
wish, as the work is looped, repeated over and over again. ey are also free to roam
about, moving from one screen to the next, arriving in the middle of a loop. In this
regard, installation viewing is closer to television viewing, during which spectators
can zap through channels regularly, staying on a show for as long as they please before
continuing to the next channel. Westgeest notes, however, that in the 2000s, some vid-
eo artists began to urge viewers to enter at the beginning and leave at the end of their
work, to watch it in its entirety.8 No such demand is made for Manifesto.
Duration stands at opposite ends in the theatre and in the gallery: while feature
lms have historically moved toward a higher frequency of edits9 (which is to say, faster
cuts and shorter shots), installations allow the space for contemplative shots, as seen in
the Futurist episode and throughout Rosefeldt’s body of work. While cinema employs fast
editing in the development of a narrative, Rosefeldts installations linger, extending the
space of the gallery into that of the screen, emphasizing spatial and temporal experience
over information. Westgeest theorizes further about the work the spectator performs in
installations, arguing that “the spectator is in some way regarded as integral to the comple-
tion of the work, which turns spectator participation into the essence of installation art”.10
With an emphasis on time and space, it is interesting to consider the practice of
a lmmaker like James Benning, whose work is almost always static and durational.
6 Ibid, 123.
7 Anna-Catharina Gebbers and Udo Kittelmann, “To Give Visible Action to Words,” in Manifesto, ed. An-
na-Catharina Gebbers, Udo Kittelmann, Justin Paton, Anneke Jaspers, Reinhard Spieler, and Sarah Tutton
(London: Koenig Books, 2016), 85.
8 Westgeest, Video Art eory: A Comparative Approach, 165.
9 Elwes, Installation and the Moving Image, 260.
10 Westgeest, Video Art eory: A Comparative Approach, 81.
142
Ljungbäck, H., From Art Gallery to Movie Theatre, AM Journal, No. 15, 2018, 135-146.
ough his lms are exhibited and screened within the cinema context, one could
imagine a project like California Trilogy (2000–2001) – three lms each consist-
ing of thirty-ve two-minute-and-twenty-second shots, as a potent three-channel
installation.
Video installations and feature lms – or galleries and theatres, respectively
– thus place dierent demands on the spectator. Whereas in the theatre, the specta-
tor’s experience is primarily temporal, the installation adds a spatial dimension to the
work, requiring the spectator to physically move through the space to experience the
work in its entirety. e spectator must not only decide on how long to spend in front
of each screen, but also in what order to move through the space, and where to posi-
tion oneself in relation to the screens. One can decide to stand close to one screen, or
one can choose to stand further back, watching multiple screens at once. Ideal viewing
distances are typically suggested by the placement of benches around the gallery, but
even then, the viewer is free to lean against walls or sit on the oor, to make their own
choices and shape their own experience.
Similarly, in the theatre, the spectator can choose to sit close to the screen,
further back, to the middle, le, or right side, but will experience the work from one
and the same vantage point for its entirety. Hugo Münsterberg has theorized this kind
of spectatorship as passive, arguing that the spectator is experiencing involuntary at-
tention, and is unable to choose to focus on anything but what the screen presents.11
Psychoanalytic lm theorists Christian Metz12 and Jean-Louis Baudry have extended
and developed Münsterbergs thesis in relation to the work of Sigmund Freud and
Jacques Lacan. Baudry, for instance, compared the immobile experience of the spec-
tator to a sleeping state, arguing that the cinemagoer’s experience is similar to that of
the prisoners watching shadows on the wall of Plato’s cave.13
On the contrary, then, in installations, the spectators’ attention is voluntary, as
they make active selections about which screen to watch, for how long, and which to
look at aerward. About eight minutes into the installation, Blanchett turns directly
toward the camera, breaking the ‘fourth wall’, addressing the spectator directly on
all twelve screens. Westgeest argues that directly addressing the viewer is one of the
most powerful strategies of early television, and a strategy that was later appropriated
in video installation art.14 As Blanchett’s characters perform monologues at dierent
pitch levels, synthesizing into complete chords, the harmonies turn the large exhi-
bition hall into a musical chamber, all voices synchronized as a choir. e eect is
astoundingly impressive, and Blanchett’s presence is inescapable.
11 Hugo Münsterberg, “Attention,” in Hugo Münsterberg on Film: e Photoplay: A Psychological Study and
Other Writings, ed. Allan Langdale (New York: Routledge, 2002), 79–88.
12 Christian Metz, e Imaginary Signier: Psychoanalysis and the Cinema, trans. Celia Britton, Annwyl Wil-
liams, Ben Brewster, and Alfred Guzzetti (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1982).
13 Jean-Louis Baudry, “e Apparatus: Metapsychological Approaches to the Impression of Reality in Cinema,
in Film eory and Criticism: Introductory Readings, ed. Leo Braudy and Marshall Cohen (8th ed., New York:
Oxford University Press, 2016), 148–65.
14 Westgeest, Video Art eory: A Comparative Approach, 37.
143
Ljungbäck, H., From Art Gallery to Movie Theatre, AM Journal, No. 15, 2018, 135-146.
An attempt is made to replicate this eect in the feature lm. While most
of these monologues have been cut out of the episodes of the lm, some have been
le intact, primarily because it would be impossible to cut around them. Particularly
in the Dadaist funeral episode, in which Blanchett delivers a eulogy, a minute-long
shot has been redubbed with a more ‘naturally’ human voice [Figure 4]. Similarly, the
punk-rocker and the puppeteer have been redubbed as well. Aer the nal episode
chronologically in the feature lm – the episode on Film – all monologues return in
their original form, by employing a split screen. While in the installation, all tones
are synchronized to start at the same moment, in the feature lm, the dierent tones
emerge one by one, with the image soon following. e voices unite in choir, this time
side by side, but the eect is not the same, primarily for two reasons.
Firstly, the characters are all looking at us from the same vantage point – the
movie theatre screen. Rosefeldt is unable to reproduce the 360-degree space of the art
gallery, in which the spectator can choose what screen to focus on at any given time.
In the theatre, the spectator can only choose to see all characters at once or none at all.
In the gallery, on the other hand, Blanchetts face is everywhere, addressing the spec-
tator from all sides all at once. However, the spectator can only focus their attention
on one screen at a time. ey must actively decide who to watch, and what to listen to.
is brings us to the second distinction, which in part is more important than
the rst. As Burcu Dogramaci notes, “the simultaneous projection of the twelve man-
ifesto compilations […] creates a sound collage where individual voices and texts can
only be made out if you are standing close to one of the screens.15 As such, the per-
ceived soundscape is dependent on the spectators distance from any given speaker.
e sound is playing from all twelve main screens, creating a complex mix of twelve
dierent loudspeakers and their relative positions to the spectator. One can make out
the words of the screen one is closest too, but, as Kimberly Quiogue Andrews notes,
as soon as you lose focus, “those words dissolve into an undierentiated tonal mass, a
chord of language that sounds like a dystopian version of whatever was going on in the
early days of Macs experimentations with computerized text-to-speech soware.16
In the feature lm, on the other hand, all twelve tones are predetermined, as
mixed into the stereo or surround sound tracks, depending on the capabilities of the
exhibition venue. e position of the spectator within the theatre is irrelevant, as all
monologues are rendered illegible and incomprehensible as one uniform noise.
15 Burcu Dogramaci, “Speaking, Acting, Transforming: e Manifesto as Metamorphosis,” in Manifesto,
ed. Anna-Catharina Gebbers, Udo Kittelmann, Justin Paton, Anneke Jaspers, Reinhard Spieler, and Sarah
Tutton (London: Koenig Books, 2016), 94.
16 Kimberly Quiogue Andrews, “Because I Have Nothing to Say: Julian Rosefeldts Manifesto and the Choral
Voice,ASAP Journal (2017), http://asapjournal.com/because-i-have-nothing-to-say-julian-rosefeldts-mani-
festo-and-the-choral-voice/, acc. December 27, 2017.
144
Ljungbäck, H., From Art Gallery to Movie Theatre, AM Journal, No. 15, 2018, 135-146.
Conclusion
is article has highlighted some of the dierences between art gallery and
movie theatre exhibition as they relate to spectatorship, primarily in the work that the
spectator performs, but also in the way the work is presented to the audience. By per-
forming a comparative analysis of Manifesto as video installation and as feature lm,
it has been possible to outline the way spectators behave dierently in the theatre and
the gallery, the dierent demands the work makes on the viewer in each venue, and
the diculties of transforming the work from one form to another.
e active participation encouraged in the installation is lost in the feature lm,
leaving the spectators restless to inhabit the scenes Rosefeldt constructs. However,
the feature lm does not attempt to replicate the installation experience, nor does it
simply bring a version of the installation to the movie theatre. By forming causal re-
lationships and shaping narrative development, and taking on the ‘feature lm form,
complete with credit sequences and musical cues, the feature lm completely trans-
forms Manifesto into a new experience, which is neither better nor worse than the
installation, but simply dierent.
Of course, it is important not to discount the platform and attention that
Blanchett’s international fame has brought to the project,17 which undoubtedly has
brought art enthusiasts to the movie theatres and Blanchett fans to the art galleries.
Ultimately, Rosefeldt seems to echo the sentiments of two of the manifestos he appro-
priates in his lm: “I am for an art that lives outside of a museum, and “I prefer both/
and to either/or”.
Figure 1:Blanchett as elementary teacher instructs her class in Dogme 95 lmmaking.
Julian Rosefeldt,Manifesto, 2015. Courtesy of the artist.
17 Gebbers and Kittelmann, “To Give Visible Action to Words,” 86.
145
Ljungbäck, H., From Art Gallery to Movie Theatre, AM Journal, No. 15, 2018, 135-146.
Figure 2:Production credits accompany this contemplative aerial shotin the feature lm.
Julian Rosefeldt,Manifesto, 2015.Courtesy of the artist.
Figure 3:Blanchett points at a computer screen in this six-minute slow motion sequence.
Julian Rosefeldt,Manifesto, 2015.Courtesy of the artist.
Figure 4:Blanchett’s Dadaisteulogy has been redubbed in the feature lm.Julian Rosefeldt,Manifesto,
2015.Courtesy of the artist.
146
Ljungbäck, H., From Art Gallery to Movie Theatre, AM Journal, No. 15, 2018, 135-146.
References
Andrews, Kimberly Quiogue. “Because I Have Nothing to Say: Julian Rosefeldt’s Manifesto and the Cho-
ral Voice.ASAP Journal (2017). http://asapjournal.com/because-i-have-nothing-to-say-julian-
rosefeldts-manifesto-and-the-choral-voice/. Accessed December 27, 2017.
Baudry, Jean-Louis. “e Apparatus: Metapsychological Approaches to the Impression of Reality in Cin-
ema.” In Film eory and Criticism: Introductory Readings, edited by Leo Braudy and Marshall
Cohen, 8th edition, 148–65. New York: Oxford University Press, 2016.
Dogramaci, Burcu. “Speaking, Acting, Transforming: e Manifesto as Metamorphosis.” In Manifesto,
edited by Anna-Catharina Gebbers, Udo Kittelmann, Justin Paton, Anneke Jaspers, Reinhard
Spieler, and Sarah Tutton, 92–5. London: Koenig Books, 2016.
Elwes, Catherine. Installation and the Moving Image. New York: Columbia University Press, 2015.
Gebbers, Anna-Catharina and Udo Kittelmann. “To Give Visible Action to Words.” In Manifesto, edited
by Anna-Catharina Gebbers, Udo Kittelmann, Justin Paton, Anneke Jaspers, Reinhard Spieler,
and Sarah Tutton, 83–7. London: Koenig Books, 2016.
Gregos, Katerina. “Unpredictable Incidents in Familiar Surroundings.” In Julian Rosefeldt: Film Works,
edited by Stephan Berg, Anselm Franke, Katerina Gregos, and David orp, 33–47. Ostldern:
Hatje Cantz Verlag, 2008.
Metz, Christian. e Imaginary Signier: Psychoanalysis and the Cinema, translated by Celia Britton,
Annwyl Williams, Ben Brewster, and Alfred Guzzetti. Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana
University Press, 1982.
Münsterberg, Hugo. “Attention.” In Hugo Münsterberg on Film: e Photoplay: A Psychological Study
and Other Writings, edited by Allan Langdale, 79–88. New York: Routledge, 2002.
Rezayazdi, Soheil. “Turning 13 Installation Screens of Cate Blanchett Into One Single-Screen Feature:
Julian Rosefeldt on Manifesto.Filmmaker Magazine (May 9, 2017). http://lmmakermagazine.
com/102408-turning-13-installation-screens-of-cate-blanchett-into-one-single-screen-feature-
julian-rosefeldt-on-manifesto/. Accessed December 23, 2017.
Westgeest, Helen. Video Art eory: A Comparative Approach. Malaysia: Wiley-Blackwell, 2016.
Article received: December 31, 2017
Article accepted: January 10, 2018
Original scholarly paper
Article
Full-text available
A tanulmány a mozgóképes installációk fenomenológiai elemzésére tesz kísérletet: azt vizsgálja, ahogyan a médiainstalláció létrehozza a „nézői tapasztalat architektúráját” (Mondloch 2010). A tanulmány a mozgóképes installációk szórakozott és tévelygő látogatójának megtestesült tapasztalatát írja le fenomenológiai perspektívából – három, egymással összefüggő aspektus vizsgálatán keresztül. Elsőként a figyelem és a szórakozottság, a sok képernyő, tárgy vagy tér figyelemelterelő hatását elemzi, majd a keretre és különösen a képen és a kereten kívüli térre fókuszál, mivel a galériafilmekben a művészek vagy előtérbe helyezik a keretet, vagy összekapcsolják a képet a képernyőt körülvevő kiállítótérrel (Fowler 2008). Végül elkerülhetetlennek tűnik a képernyők és intézmények (különösen a mozi és a múzeum) közt vándorló mozgóképek által kiváltott eltérő nézői tapasztalatok vizsgálata. A „képernyők között” szóösszetétel a címben tehát nem csak az installációk közt bolyongó nézőre, hanem a műveknek az intézmények közötti vándorlására is utal. Az elméleti keret kidolgozását a tanulmány Chantal Akerman, Jesper Just és Julian Rosefeldt mozgóképes alkotásainak elemzésén és értelmezésén keresztül végzi el.
Transforming: The Manifesto as Metamorphosis
  • Burcu Dogramaci
Burcu Dogramaci, "Speaking, Acting, Transforming: The Manifesto as Metamorphosis, " in Manifesto, ed. Anna-Catharina Gebbers, Udo Kittelmann, Justin Paton, Anneke Jaspers, Reinhard Spieler, and Sarah Tutton (London: Koenig Books, 2016), 94.
Because I Have Nothing to Say: Julian Rosefeldt's Manifesto and the Choral Voice
  • Kimberly Andrews
  • Quiogue
Andrews, Kimberly Quiogue. "Because I Have Nothing to Say: Julian Rosefeldt's Manifesto and the Choral Voice. " ASAP Journal (2017). http://asapjournal.com/because-i-have-nothing-to-say-julianrosefeldts-manifesto-and-the-choral-voice/. Accessed December 27, 2017.
The Apparatus: Metapsychological Approaches to the Impression of Reality in Cinema
  • Jean-Louis Baudry
Jean-Louis Baudry, "The Apparatus: Metapsychological Approaches to the Impression of Reality in Cinema, " in Film Theory and Criticism: Introductory Readings, ed. Leo Braudy and Marshall Cohen (8 th ed., New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), 148-65.
Speaking, Acting, Transforming: The Manifesto as Metamorphosis
  • Burcu Dogramaci
Dogramaci, Burcu. "Speaking, Acting, Transforming: The Manifesto as Metamorphosis. " In Manifesto, edited by Anna-Catharina Gebbers, Udo Kittelmann, Justin Paton, Anneke Jaspers, Reinhard Spieler, and Sarah Tutton, 92-5. London: Koenig Books, 2016.
To Give Visible Action to Words
  • Anna-Catharina Gebbers
  • Udo Kittelmann
Gebbers, Anna-Catharina and Udo Kittelmann. "To Give Visible Action to Words. " In Manifesto, edited by Anna-Catharina Gebbers, Udo Kittelmann, Justin Paton, Anneke Jaspers, Reinhard Spieler, and Sarah Tutton, 83-7. London: Koenig Books, 2016.
Unpredictable Incidents in Familiar Surroundings
  • Katerina Gregos
Gregos, Katerina. "Unpredictable Incidents in Familiar Surroundings. " In Julian Rosefeldt: Film Works, edited by Stephan Berg, Anselm Franke, Katerina Gregos, and David Thorp, 33-47. Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz Verlag, 2008.
Turning 13 Installation Screens of Cate Blanchett Into One Single-Screen Feature: Julian Rosefeldt on Manifesto
  • Soheil Rezayazdi
Rezayazdi, Soheil. "Turning 13 Installation Screens of Cate Blanchett Into One Single-Screen Feature: Julian Rosefeldt on Manifesto. " Filmmaker Magazine (May 9, 2017). http://filmmakermagazine. com/102408-turning-13-installation-screens-of-cate-blanchett-into-one-single-screen-featurejulian-rosefeldt-on-manifesto/. Accessed December 23, 2017.
Video Art Theory: A Comparative Approach
  • Helen Westgeest
Westgeest, Video Art Theory: A Comparative Approach, 37.